


any way to your wild heart

by xylomylo



Category: TWICE (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Gossip Girl References, the gg au no one asked for
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-08 00:02:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21226442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xylomylo/pseuds/xylomylo
Summary: (later, sana would realise that it was the building blocks of something she’d always dreamt about, even before comprehending the intricacies of belonging - because maslow’s hierarchy of needs does not explain the matters of the heart, or why her eyes never stray too far from nayeon’s smile, and linger at the tips of her bunny teeth - the first secret she doesn’t share.)





	any way to your wild heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skyclectic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyclectic/gifts).

> happy birthday @skylectic!! thank u for being my other brain cell. always grateful for u managing to understand things i dont even say <3 
> 
> also this is the sanayeon gg au i have always dreamed about,,title from bleacher's wild heart because it came on shuffle and why not!!! :>

/

  
  
  


the first time they meet - sana is seven. she is old enough to know what it means when mother tells her they have guests: pick out a princess dress, let the maids comb her hair, and stand by the door to receive them. but today, mother comes into her room ten minutes before, dismisses the maids, and ends up doing sana’s hair all by herself.

there are hushed whispers about an old friend returning for good. sana knows they’re important people, because mother has put on her diamond earrings. her favourite ones, she thinks. she always has them when she’s smiling. so when she’s told to be on her best behaviour, sana nods. makes sure to remember to sit with her back straight against the chair, and place her hands neatly in her lap. 

when the double door opens, sana does just that. smiles like how she’d practiced in the mirror. bows in greeting, and shakes their hand - mrs im and her daughter, nayeon. they too, are dressed up, but nayeon keeps picking at her dress every now and then. throughout the entire dinner, sana unknowingly finds herself watching nayeon, who eats messily without a care in the world. it’s kind of gross, because she’s not being a lady at all, and when mother gives her the signal, sana finds herself hesitating more than usual. 

but then her eyes meet nayeon’s, and nayeon smiles like she has gummies hidden in her bag. chocolates, too. maybe something more. a secret or two, with the way her eyes twinkle. and it’s that something more that musters up her courage to invite nayeon to her room to play house, like mother wanted her to. to be friends. 

she’s excited. but also scared, because she’s still thinking about nayeon eating with sauce all over her mouth. the queasiness in her stomach only settles when she shuts her room door, and turns around to find nayeon already seated down on the floor, smiling like she’s just told her something she shouldn’t know, with her legs stretched out like she owns the place, and a bag of gummies in between them - the first secret they share.

(later, sana would realise that it was the building blocks of something she’d always dreamt about, even before comprehending the intricacies of belonging - because maslow’s hierarchy of needs does not explain the matters of the heart, or why her eyes never stray too far from nayeon’s smile, and linger at the tips of her bunny teeth - the first secret she doesn’t share.)

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


at constance, she learns how to defend herself. to be fierce, like mother said. because minatozakis are strong, independent women who fight their own battles, and she is one of them. so she works her way to an impeccable dictatorship that steps on anyone in her way, and rules with sheer determination (influence). if you can’t make people respect you, make them fear you.

sana knows nayeon doesn’t understand it. sometimes they’ll be on the met steps, eating lunch, and laughing at the newest girl’s headband that’s so last season. sometimes they sit in silence, because school is exhausting. but most of the time it’s just sana talking, with the rest of her minions laughing along, and nayeon staring out into space, joining the conversation briefly only when she’s nudged, or when they talk about the latest fashion statements. 

“why do you have to be so mean all the time?” nayeon asks one day, when they’re in her room. she lies sprawled out on sana’s bed, pristine silk sheets all rumpled up by her rolling around earlier. it’s what they always do, because both their parents are always out of town. and maybe sana doesn’t like to admit it, but they (mostly) only have each other.

she huffs. “mean?” sana crosses her arms. “the new girl spilled her lipstick on my white valentino bag! it’s just a friendly reminder to her to not do it again.” leans back against the headboard, because nayeon’s taking up all the space on her bed. “besides, i’m not mean all the time. i’m just defending myself.”

“really,” nayeon muses. rolls to her side. props her head up with an elbow, and sana hates how nayeon still manages to look pretty like this. with her oversized cashmere sweater that clashes with her purple leggings. there are some people whose beauty can never be limited by the clothes they wear, and nayeon just so happens to be one of them. it’s a fact sana has learnt to accept, with the green jealousy morphing its way into something of golden admiration. 

“of course!” sana recoils in mock offense. “am i mean to you? i let you lie on my bed, unshowered, in case you forgot.” she pouts. 

then nayeon rolls over, just to rest her head on sana’s thigh. pats it two times, before she exhales slowly, and contentedly, with her eyes closed:

“okay yeah. you’re the best, sana. i’ll be nice to you.”

sana hates how her heart soars into the air right after that. it is a slow transition into something different, she thinks. something changing, underneath all the bones of her chest. something that was already there, but forgotten. something that yearns for nayeon to say those words again, and again, only for her, in the privacy of her very own four walls. because nayeon is the sun - bright, and unburdened by anything - of course she wouldn’t understand sana’s need to protect herself and her fortress. kindness is easy to people like nayeon, because people are kind to her first, and reciprocation is innate, especially in the upper east side. 

_ don’t, _ she wants to say.  _ i’m not worth it _ . 

instead, she strokes nayeon’s hair until the other girl falls asleep.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


her parents get a divorce. 

it’s ugly, even by a minatozaki standard. father leaves the house one morning with his suitcase packed, and mother spends the next three hours locked in her bedroom. it’s not the first time the house is dead silent, but sana knows that this time, this is a silence that will echo for many, many more years. the news plagues the entire upper east side, the tabloids eat it up like a hyperfixation - sana doesn’t cry.

she looks through her contacts. there is no one worthy of calling, now that nayeon is no longer under her favourites. because the universe decided to turn her entire life upside down by having her best friend disappear without a word. no letter, no phone call, no text - nothing. and the worst part? having to find out from the teachers. it still stings, but sana thinks she has developed a better tolerance for pain.

boarding school, they said. mrs im doesn’t offer any other explanation, and always looks at her with sticky pity in her eyes that makes sana want to crawl out of her own skin. so she understands. adapts, and pushes past everything nayeon. because she is minatozaki sana, and she is her own person. 

this is the same. without a complete family, she is still minatozaki sana. she knows that mother knows this, too, when mrs minatozaki finally emerges from her bedroom, immaculate as ever - not a hair out of place. looks at sana with steel in her eyes, and tells her that it’s going to be okay.

she nods. watches as mother calls the lawyers. discusses negotiation in terms of splitting of assets, alimony, and all the words she never thought she’d get to hear in her own living room. there is power in mother’s voice as she speaks things into existence, and sana watches the walls go up as more and more people visit. it solidifies the notion that everyone leaves, eventually, and that minatozakis, at the end of the day, function best alone enclosed in the castle they build with their fear, and sleep in them like the queens they are destined to be. 

at age sixteen, sana learns that life is a lonely journey. it’s probably what makes her stick her tongue in hirai momo’s mouth - but there’s none of that sugary goodness she’s supposed to feel, like in all the books she’s read.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


momo is a good distraction. sana learns ten different ways to chug a beer, and a thousand more hiding spots in the empire, only because momo is always trying to straddle escaping her father’s watchful eye and making the most of her last name. business is everything to the hirais, even more so than their daughter’s wellbeing - it’s something that hurts even sana to see. but in the very rare moments when the other girl talks about it, sana thinks that the loneliness in momo’s eyes looks like the one in her own reflection. the way they are still empty, and will probably be despite how many times they end up in each other’s beds - it is a camaraderie worlds apart from the pathetic excuse of the friendship she had with nayeon, but it doesn’t stop her from letting herself miss it only during the darkest hour of the night.

her newfound independence is skewered in the only way possible: nayeon’s return. the girl comes barrelling back like nothing ever happened, with the sun in her skin and her hair a couple of inches longer. it irks sana to no end, because the upper east side welcomes nayeon back without batting an eyelash, and it threatens everything she’s labelled under her own character development. 

a year or so without nayeon and sana forgets that nayeon always,  _ always  _ gets whatever she wants. she tells the maids not to let nayeon in, despite their worried glances whenever the other girl supposedly tries to visit, leaving notes and flowers and texts and calls that go straight to voicemail. because sana is a minatozaki, and minatozakis work best alone. in a heavily guarded fortress, there is only room for success, and none for hurt. so sana fights, and grits her teeth.

mother simply shrugs. the minatozaki house is still quiet, but sana thinks it’s gotten peaceful. a comfortable tranquility where they most recently talk about college, now that application deadlines are approaching. it’s yale, of course, with their elite literary programs - the future is exciting, because she can’t wait to step out of mother’s shadow. sure, running a fashion house is fun, but maybe she wants to do something she actually likes. something with her own weight.

then nayeon resurfaces during fashion week, as a model for mother’s latest clothing line, and sana loses it. leaves halfway through the show. she gets an article written about her ‘unfounded jealousy’, because the presence of im nayeon alone increased sales by at least five percent, and maybe she never really made mother smile like nayeon always could. the walls of her fortress crumbles, when the walk home makes her realise that she’s still the same person as she was one year ago.

or, that she will always be the same naive little girl who craves the security of a constant in her life, when it comes to anything im nayeon. because sana, like everyone else, is subject to her gravity- im nayeon controls the world, and sana will always be what nayeon wants her to be: forgiving. 

so much for being a minatozaki.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


it actualises that very same night, when there are pebbles being pelted at her bedroom window, and sana opens them to yell profanities - only to find out that it’s nayeon, looking like she’s about to cry. this is a first, because nayeon has always been larger than life - never impossibly small, like now. it sets off an alarm in her that sends her heart into overdrive with worry, and she’s out of her room in seconds, running down the stairs two at a time just to open the door. 

nayeon shatters. the pieces of her scatter across the front yard. but even so, sana sees them glitter in the moonlight - the brilliant opal magic that she always looked up to. that she loved. that made her smile, once upon a time. it roots her to the ground, because nayeon is bare and vulnerable and has put all her ugly imperfections on display, and all that is left is for sana to unravel them one by one. the air in her lungs suddenly thins, because how could she even think to hate nayeon?

the honesty of it all makes her move forward. lights the flame of courage, and fuels the softening of her heart. she’s no longer afraid of stepping on the shards of nayeon’s pain. because nothing matters more than nayeon. the sun has to keep shining, to keep all the planets in orbit and to maintain the life it gives - a sleepless night or two is the least she could do.

sana crushes nayeon in a hug. tries to put the pieces together. her fingers can burn for all she cares, because history isn’t enough to teach her how to insulate herself. the heat brands a heartbreak that is outlined by the hot tears she feels on her neck. the pads beneath her fingers don’t seem to be able to wipe away the hurt spilling across nayeon’s cheeks. it is a flood of silvery regrets that wraps sana’s heart in a thorny vine, and in a moment’s folly, she tries using her lips. 

it works. the pieces are soldered together slowly with a desperate precision, and sana holds them in place. mumbles apologies and puts them in a jar she hopes nayeon will laugh about later. there are bits and pieces of a conversation they should have had a year ago, with a pinch of the sad hard truth that sana swallows easily - there are things that nayeon will always keep to herself, until it explodes out of her in an arc that waters everything down. sana understands. it makes her feel better about still keeping the eccentric pounding in her chest a secret of her own. it is also this moment, when she raises the white flag, and gives up on finding a way to nayeon’s wild heart.

they end up in sana’s bed, like the good old days. there is a bottle of gin on her bedside table that was meant for her own self-pity. but in true nayeon fashion, she turns it into a whirlwind of a time warp, to catch up on everything that she’s missed out on. sana’s vision blurs as her tongue loosens, but nayeon’s bunny teeth are somehow always in focus, no matter how much her room starts to spin. 

nayeon smells like grass. and of course, her trademark jo malone - it invokes memories that sana was about to lock away forever, and her eyes sting. it’s stupid, her olfactory system coming into play in the most embarrassing way possible. shames her for the guilt of jealousy, but nayeon’s voice is a soothing melody that paces the rhythm of her heart, and sana breathes. finds purchase in the very thing that anchors her - nayeon’s smile. the words drown themselves out, as the room wobbles even more in time, but with nayeon’s rose lips is a bold fixture her eyes cannot seem to leave, and sana thinks about what it would be like to kiss nayeon

(she thinks she does.)

the rest of the night is a kaleidoscope sana flushes down the toilet bowl the next morning, because there is nothing more important than the warm body next to hers, and the hand that finds hers easily when she slips back into bed before the sun rises.

the hand she hopes she never has to let go again. 

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


the upper east side lifestyle stays with her even through college. education is no excuse to miss important societal debuts or fund-raising galas, because social status has to be maintained no matter what. sana just uses it as an excuse to meet up with nayeon, and occasionally, momo. because distance does not make the heart grow fonder - it turns sana into an irritable bitch who can never seem to remain at steady state. 

independence takes on a whole new meaning with two-hour phone calls and spontaneous shopping trips to milan. nayeon does the bare minimum at brown, because the brilliance of the sun is too important to let anything else come in between, and sana only rolls her eyes at the breeze that nayeon passes midterms with. this is the only time she will let nayeon clown her for her age, and her perfectionist tendencies for following through no matter what - like cramming two days before.

today’s gala is hosted by the hirais. the jet comes for her in the morning, and sana is more than ready to skip two or three days of classes, depending on how well she resists nayeon. it’s not like she wants to, anyway, because coming to terms with the lopsided gravity when it comes to the other girl has helped sana understand the weird drop in her stomach whenever nayeon’s fingers close around her arm. or why she’s physically incapable of pulling away. it’s a cheap thrill that gives her a high momo’s weed could never. 

her dress is a backless piece sent by mother, and sana wears it only because she still believes in diplomacy. it’s most definitely not because nayeon had looked at her with a flicker of something muted that disappeared the second sana started to squint. then there was also something about it being a _princess dress_ that looks like _the one you were wearing when we first met _and maybe sana doesn’t process the fact that nayeon’s goldfish memory doesn’t seem to fail her when it comes to monumental things in life. 

the limo reaches its destination, and like any other hirai gala, it’s held in the empire. sana is greeted by the grand marble stairs she’d almost called her second home, after she tugs nayeon through the sea of paparazzi flashes that blinds her momentarily. because nayeon is nice enough to smile and wave a little longer for the cameras - something sana knows she herself has no capacity for, because she simply isn’t as kind as the it girl of their generation. 

momo is already there, tall and handsome in her trademark three-piece suit. she’s already neck deep in conversations sana knows are just face-value fillers, and her hand itches to adjust the edge of the suit jacket that sticks out just so. but nayeon’s helping her down the smaller steps into the ballroom, and sana finds her train of thought interrupted by the warmth of their joined hands.

it lingers, even with the coldness of the champagne flute. mrs im greets them briefly before running off to do her own rounds. mother is there too, but it seems that distance and a couple of articles about her choice of major put a lot of distance between them. nevertheless, they hug, and it’s not long before one of them gets swept away in the flurry of conversations. 

nayeon stays. answers questions diligently with the grace and respect sana knows she’d just put on before they arrived. it’s enough for her to start zoning out a little, because staring at the sun for long hours would only serve to blind her, and maybe sana’s already halfway there with the way the pull of nayeon hits her like a freight train when she finally notices the ring on the other girl’s finger. 

her lungs go rigid. it’s the stupid friendship band they made all those years ago, greyed with the dirt of age. the one she made nayeon sit through hours of youtube tutorials for to finally perfect the design she deemed intricate enough to represent them, but also easy enough to make. the rainbow colours make her abdomen twist with nostalgia, and sana forces her feet to move with a sloppy excuse. ignores the questions in nayeon’s eyes, and hopes to god she makes it out of the ballroom before her throat closes up and she gets another article written about how she’s a minatozaki who can’t hold her own in social events like this one. 

she doesn’t breathe, because the very reason that used to remind her to triggers all of her flight responses - maybe she’s spent too much time trying to keep the one secret behind her lips that she’s stopped looking. properly.

  
  
  


/

  
  
  


she somehow ends up in one of the many hiding places she had the liberty of discovering - the basement supply closet. 

and of course, sana isn’t alone. momo snorts, from her seat on the floor. her tie is already undone. her shirt is two buttons missing. there are lipstick stains adorning the column of her neck, and the stress lines decorating her forehead speak volumes of the burdens on her shoulders - sana thinks it’s justified. 

“rough day?” she quips. kicks her heels off and drops to the floor ungracefully. this is the very basis of their relationship - a mutual understanding of needing to have a temporary escape, before going back with their heads held high to face whatever demon that was waiting. 

momo takes a swig from her flask. “i’m hosting the gala,” she rolls her eyes. “you think?” 

sana knows it better than anyone. being under constant scrutiny, and having to slip into facades just to please. it’s tiring, and she feels her throat dry up at the mere thought of it. they sit in silence as they share whatever’s left of momo’s weird concoction, and sana feels her thoughts finally quiet.

“did you ever wonder why she left, all those years ago?” momo throws out randomly. it’s completely uncalled for, because sana hates to be reminded of the emptiness that was in her life. she also hates how the other girl doesn’t need to elaborate, because there can only be one person in question -

“no,” she shakes her head. it’s curt, but truthful, and there’s only more silence as sana tries to figure out where this is going.

momo laughs. “one of her boarding school friends is here,” she points at her neck. sana cringes, because she spots the hickey underneath the lipstick, and thinks very briefly about bleaching her eyes out. but it’s momo, and there’s a one hundred percent chance it’s going to happen again - there’s no point. 

her smile turns wistful. “she said that nayeon always talked about trying to forget someone,” she continues. “moving past the impossible. focusing on the present, and protecting it.”

sana frowns. there’s more silence, because momo mumbles something about how that sounds like a whole farce. but she thinks about the reunion night, and the friendship band on nayeon’s finger, and nayeon’s steady hand on the small of her back -

she stands up. brushes off the dust on her dress, and runs, barefoot. 

  
  
  


/

**Author's Note:**

> @xylomyloo on twitter curiouscat yeehaw


End file.
